


when we're dancing, i'm alright

by clnbd



Category: Charlie's Angels (2019)
Genre: F/F, OT3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-30
Updated: 2020-01-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:47:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22482826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clnbd/pseuds/clnbd
Summary: It’s scary but they’re all there, always pulling each other out of the wreckage, pressing in until wounds no longer bleed and bruises no longer hurt.
Relationships: Elena Houghlin/Jane Kano/Sabina Wilson
Comments: 14
Kudos: 256





	when we're dancing, i'm alright

**Author's Note:**

> Title from Lorde's Perfect Places.

The ride does not stop once Elena lands the plane.

Sure, they get a couple of days off and Jane and Sabina take her dancing, but Elena feels like she doesn’t even get a moment to breathe before they’re getting shipped off to Florida to break some guy out of prison. And yes, _yes_ , the orange jumpsuit had _worked_ for her but she is still bored and on a floor by herself for a week.

After Florida comes Manila. After Manila, London. Then there’s Kiev, Athens, Montreal. They sleep on planes, trains, and - once - in a car on a moving tow truck. Always, they’re together. 

Elena takes comfort in the small things that come with the proximity. She likes sleeping with her legs thrown over Sabina’s lap, likes waking up to Jane stroking her hair. A feeling takes up residence in her chest whenever the three of them break into a spontaneous dance party or cook dinner together. Sometimes she feels _so much_ about it all that she feels like she might burst.

After Montreal, Jane drags her and Sabina back to the safe house, happy to be free. Of course, Elena’s ass barely touches the couch before they’re sent off again.

* * *

“The Bronx?” Jane asks, crossing her arms. “What billionaire spends their Friday nights in the Bronx?”

“A billionaire with a stake in the Yankees.” Bosley’s mouth flattens into a line. “Does this generation still watch baseball or am I on my own here?”

“ _Dude_.” Sabina says, offended. “You’ve seen me watch _A League of Their Own_ like ten times.”

* * *

It’s going well until it isn’t.

There’s not really another way to explain it. They’re basically home free in the middle of the sixth inning - bad guy knocked out and in the van and all - until an overly invested security personnel decides to take an interest in Sabina’s fake press pass as she tries to leave the building. Elena hears it happen, meets Jane’s eyes over the tranquilized body of the mass weapons dealer slash billionaire, and takes off running.

Elena’s still dressed like a fan, but she abandons all pretense when she gets to the war zone that is the press box hallway. Sabina’s using a bat to hold off a handful of security guards. Elena recognizes it as the same one Babe Ruth used when he called his shot.

“Oh my god.” She says, looking at a destroyed display case. There are autographed balls everywhere.

Elena had a baseball phase - analytics is the future of the sport and _Moneyball_ was a damn good movie - so she would be lying if she said the sight didn’t irritate her.

“I’ll take you to Cooperstown.” Sabina grunts when she just stands there. “Just fuckin’ - help me here, MIT.”

Elena does as she’s told, throwing herself into the mayhem. One of the guards latches on to her, manages to grab her around the neck. Elena elbows him in the gut, uses her gun to knock him out cold. A second guard with a goatee manages to get a hit in, knocking her off balance and kicking her gun down the hall where it clanks against the elevator door. Elena can hear the seventh inning stretch happening. She jumps back up. Goatee swings at her again and it’s only the countless hours of training that saves her from taking a knee to the chest. 

Elena chances a look at Sabina - doing as fine as anyone with a glass shard in their kneecap possibly can - and takes a punch to the nose for her troubles. Her head snaps back and blood gets in her eyes. She ducks, gets behind Goatee, and kicks him in the back of the head. He hits the ground unconscious and she uses his gun to fire at Sabina’s assailant.

There are two gunshots. One is Elena’s, she knows. It hits the guard in the leg just as he pulls his own trigger, changes his aim. Sabina drops to the ground.

“That sounded awfully close.” Jane remarks over the comms casually, too casual to actually be casual.

“Damnit.” Elena swears under her breath as the gun in her hand fires empty. She grabs a baseball by her feet - David Cone’s perfect game - and throws as hard as she can. It makes a satisfying _crack_ sound when it hits the guard in the temple. 

Sabina lets out a mild _whoop_ and Elena laughs a little until she sees the blood staining Sabina’s shirt.

Elena is so desperate she practically crawls the length of the hallway to her. She breathes deeply, trying to stave off the panic that threatens to settle in.

“Hell of a knuckler there.” Sabina wheezes. Elena loops her arms under Sabina’s and lifts.

“Fastball.” She corrects, fitting herself under Sabina’s shoulder like a crutch and wrapping an arm around Sabina’s midsection to put pressure on the wound. Elena can feel the blood gushing under her fingers and presses down harder.

They manage to duck into the elevator before any other guards arrive on the scene. Jane is waiting when the doors open to ground level. She presses the keys into Elena’s hand before lifting Sabina into her arms.

It’s a rush, then. Elena guns the engine and steps on the gas and tries to ignore the sounds coming from the back.

* * *

It’s not the last close call they experience. It’s not even the last close call of the week. They’re so busy that everything kind of blurs together.

Jane gets badly concussed in Amsterdam. Elena almost drowns in the Seine and probably would have if it weren’t for Jane’s white-knuckle grip on her hand as Sabina drags them both back to shore. They all get trapped in a burning building. A coffee shop explodes. Elena gets stabbed. Jane gets hit by a car.

It’s scary but they’re all there, always pulling each other out of the wreckage, pressing in until wounds no longer bleed and bruises no longer hurt.

Elena touches Sabina’s gunshot scar in the dark and kisses Jane’s forehead. In return, she lets Jane mouth at the puckered skin shaped like a knife point on her shoulder and doesn’t say anything when Sabina’s hands fret over her long-healed ankle.

* * *

It's almost a year before they get their first real break.

They're given two full weeks and Elena goes home to see her parents. She spends four days with them on a beach in California before heading back to her apartment. It's dark by the time she gets off the plane and even darker once she's at her doorstep, fumbling for her keys.

The door opens just as she finds the key in her purse. Elena looks up to see Jane wearing one of her old MIT sweatshirts, looking right at home in her apartment.

"How'd you get in?" She asks dumbly, pushing up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss against the corner of Jane's mouth on reflex.

"Did she ask how we got in?" Sabina calls from the living room.

"Yeah." Jane laughs, pulling Elena in by the waist and kicking the door shut behind them.

Sabina says, "That's our girl."

And then she's there and they're all wound so tight against each other that Elena no longer knows where she ends and where they begin.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I've seen the movie a grand total of once and I have zero prior knowledge of Charlie's Angels other than that.


End file.
